


Change of Heart

by Flammenkobold



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Betrayal, Dark, Eye Gouging, Eye Trauma, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/pseuds/Flammenkobold
Summary: Some time later, Martin changes his mind on Jon's offer to run away from the Institute together. It doesn't end well.





	Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings.

“You’re sure?” Jon asks again. He still looks mildly baffled at Martin’s change of heart, a bit hopeful and mostly scared.

Perhaps he should be, Martin thinks. It's a testament to how far down the particular fear rabbit hole Martin is himself, that Jon doesn’t _ know _that. Either that or the tunnels really do impede his powers that much.

“Yes, Jon,” he repeats patiently.

Jon takes a shaking breath and nods, a smile skittering over his face. “Right,” he says. “Right. Should we do it then?”

“Now?” Martin asks. Still a bit surprised at how willing Jon is to actually go through with this. 

Jon lets out a self-conscious laugh and shrugs. “I have everything here.”

“We’d still need a way out.” Martin reminds him. “After. And you won’t know.”

“Right,” Jon says again, licks his lips. “Basira left a string around, leading to the surface, it’s still intact.” Martin doubts it but doesn’t say anything. “And I have Daisy on speed dial.” Only Jon would still have an old phone with actual keys on it.

It’s Martin’s turn to let out a nervous laugh. “Right,” he echoes Jon. “Let’s do it then?”

“Are-”

“Jon, if you’re going to ask me if I’m sure, again, I might just change my mind out of spite.”

Jon opens his mouth again, but Martin gathers all the courage he has left and leans forward quickly, pressing a short kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he leans back Jon looks at him with nearly wild eyes, realization settling in. “Oh,” he says softly, like something he technically knew just managed to sink in fully. _ You idiot_, Martin thinks fondly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says firmly and stubbornly. 

Jon nods and takes out two vials of acid from his pocket and hands one to Martin. Then he proceeds to pull out a butterfly knife. Martin does a take at that actually, Jon really has thought this through and come prepared. It’s just as well that he won’t have to use the knife he brought.

“In case...just to make sure,” Jon explains and he looks now even more nervous, but still determined.

_ Oh Jon_, Martin feels his heart crack a little bit more. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Jon talk.

“Do you want to, to go first- or should, should I?” 

Martin takes the knife out of Jon’s hand. “You go first,” he says gently but firmly. “This way we can make sure that we’ll both leave.” The lie slips from his lips too easily, too convincingly. They won’t leave here. They’re both too deep in. Pretending for a moment that they could feels good though.

Jon takes a shaky breath and nods. “Yes, yes, you’re right.” He gives another helpless and pitiful laugh. “Let’s do this.”

“It’s probably best if you sit down,” Martin points out and helps guide Jon down to the floor and lays his vial on the ground.

Jon’s hands are shaking when he breaks open the vial but they steady when Martin puts his free hand on his forearm. Jon looks at him, as if he really wants to memorize how Martin looks like, but Martin can feel more than just Jon’s gaze settle on him. 

“Stop it,” he chides him, still keeping his voice soft. 

“Right, sorry,” Jon says and his gaze flickers away from Martin and settles back on the vial. “I guess this is it,” he says and then stares at the vial a bit longer. His movement is sudden and nearly knocks Martin back when he finally does raise his hand in a burst of determination, splashing the acid into his own eyes.

He doesn’t scream, but the noise he makes is even more terrible. “Martin, oh god, the knife, please, hurry.” This Martin expected, that Jon was too far gone already, even emaciated as he is from the lack of live statements. His body already repairs itself. But the acid works well in hindering the healing process and eating away at Jon’s eyes. Martin takes the knife, his own hands steady as he plunges it first into one eye-socket and then the other, scraping out the remnants of Jon’s eyes.

When it’s done he lets the knife clatter to the ground and just holds Jon, Jon who is whimpering pitifully, Jon who is growing weaker by the second.

“Jon?” he implores. “Did it work?”

“Martin,” he says and it’s barely above a whisper. He repeats his name again and again and Martin knows that no one else will ever say it like this. It’ll be worth it all in the end.

“Jon, answer me,” he repeats more firmly. Not that he needs the confirmation, really.

“I- I think so. Yes,” Jon gasps out. Martin picks up the knife again and cuts the back of Jon’s hand with it. The wound doesn’t knit itself together.

“It did,” he confirms and Jon lets out a relieved huff, the corners of his lips turning up into a pained but hopeful smile. It falls away only seconds later.

Martin pulls Jon closer, presses a kiss to his forehead and starts to count the seconds. It doesn’t take long for Jon to take his last breath and his heart to make its last beat. 

Martin waits a bit longer, just in case it starts back up again. It doesn’t. Finally he sighs. “I told you,” he says against Jon’s hair. “There really wasn’t anything else keeping you alive, huh?” It’s a rhetoric question at best, Jon certainly won’t answer it. Martin lets out a tiny laugh of his own.

“God, you always were that much of an idiot, weren’t you.” His voice is tinged with sadness, it’s old and familiar and settles over him like a well worn blanket.

He places Jon’s body on the floor, lays him out and folds his arms over his chest. Then he takes the other vial, breaks it open. For good measure he pours the content over Jon’s eye sockets again, just in case. He does pocket the knife and gets up, dusts off his trousers and regards Jon one last time. Perhaps he should retrieve the body later. Then again the tunnels were good for the body of one Archivist, they’ll be good for another one too.

Jon was at rest now, at least. Perhaps it was better that way. Certainly it was one thing less Martin has to worry about, one thing less to distract him. 

He has work to do after all.


End file.
